


ad infinitum

by rook_fern



Series: To Those Bright Stars [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Blood and Torture, Dehydration, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt Lucifer, Injured Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Protective Lucifer, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rook_fern/pseuds/rook_fern
Summary: Sci-Fi Lucifer AULieutenant Chloe Decker is part of the Renegade's crew under the command of Captain Lucifer Morningstar. She's always known the captain's been a bit odd, but she was never really sure just how odd. Then Morningstar goes and gets them stranded on an uncharted planet with God-knows-what roaming the foreboding plains. To make matters worse, the captain's acting stranger than usual. Of course his past is going to come back and bite him in the arse, and Decker happens to be caught in the crossfire.





	1. fortuna

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to try my hand at not only an AU but also a longer fic (one that's already complete before I publish it).
> 
> Please tell me what you think!
> 
> And worry not, this is going to be a collection/series. I just need to get off my ass and write the next piece.

Lieutenant Decker sent a death glare at Lucifer Morningstar, the captain - or rather, former captain - of the  _ Renegade _ . She wondered what otherworldly forces she had pissed off in order for her to have the misfortune of being assigned under the command of this man.

The man in question caught her glare and had the gall to shoot her a sheepish, somewhat cheeky grin. “Come now, Chloe, this little… accident is hardly my fault. How was I to know that there was an ion storm so close?”

Decker gritted her teeth at Captain Morningstar’s tone and ground out, “first off, it’s Lieutenant Decker - you know that -” His grin merely broadened at her annoyance. “- and secondly, yeah, it is kind of your fault. The sensors must’ve picked up something; you were just too busy doing… whatever the hell you were doing to notice!”

His smug expression melted away slightly, turning into a little pout. “Actually, the sensors  _ didn’t  _ catch anything. Miss Lopez took them offline to repair them after the little fiasco we had with those heathen Ghyllians. That, I will take the blame for.”

His statement made Decker pause. So, maybe the destruction of the  _ Renegade  _ wasn’t entirely his fault. Her cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment. There was no way in hell that she was giving him the satisfaction of being right, though. His ego was big enough as it was. However, as soon as she opened her mouth, he was already speaking again. “I do believe that I also got all of the crew safely to the surface of… wherever here is.”

Decker had to admit he was right about that; he had been instrumental in making sure all of the crew got to the planet surface safely and with little panicking as possible. With a begrudging huff, she muttered, “yeah, fine…”

She had hoped her compliance had gone unheard by Captain Morningstar, but his reinflated grin made it obvious he had heard her clearly. With a last exasperated eyeroll in his direction, she studied the terrain they had landed on.

The ground was speckled with sparse tufts of grass - or at least what she assumed was grass. It waved slightly in a faint breeze, reflecting the light with an odd sheen. Beneath it, the soil was a bluish-green, bordering on being pastel in hue. Decker had seen planets with that type of soil makeup in the past. She was fairly certain they had been copper based, so it was pretty safe to guess that copper was prevalent on this planet. Lopez would have to confirm it, though.

At the thought of the petite science-slash-engineering expert, she shifted her gaze. There - She spied Lopez’s dark ponytail bobbing behind a boulder. No doubt, the woman was relatively unflustered by the recent events and was already sciencing the shit out of this new world.

Giving her head a shake, Decker went back to the examination of the planet’s surface. In the distance, she could make out the jagged treeline of a forest. Behind it loomed dark mountains that disappeared into the cloud-strewn atmosphere. The plain between them and the mountain was relatively uncluttered and open, save for a few large boulders planted firmly in the ground.

Once she was satisfied that they were in no immediate danger of being mobbed by wild aliens, she turned back to where her fellow crewmates were milling around; most looked quite lost.

Only Lopez and Captain Morningstar looked unfazed by their imminent situation of being stranded on an alien world.

Decker strode over to Espinoza who was wandering through the rocky constructs. He had been one of the more panicky people during their evacuation of the  _ Renegade _ . Espinoza might be very handy with a rifle, but he and transport beams did not mix.

She reached a hand out and rested it lightly on his shoulder, and he jumped slightly at the action, his grip tightening on the rifle in his palms. The tension bled out of him once he saw it was only her. “You holding up better now?” she queried, an eyebrow raised.

Espinoza shifted his grip on the rifle, clasping it with one hand. “Yeah, thanks,” he muttered, “sorry about earlier. I’m not the biggest fan of my particles being disassembled and reassembled.”

Decker let what she hoped was a comforting smile slip onto her face, dropping her hand from his shoulder. “Good.”

“Ah, Douche! Chloe!”

The sound of Captain Morningstar’s voice behind her made Decker’s shoulders tense, an irate grimace twisting her lips.

“Sorry,  _ Lieutenant Decker _ , I mean.” The captain came into her peripheral vision, glancing between Espinoza and her. A quick look at Espinoza told that he was equally perturbed by Captain Morningstar’s nicknames.

“Is there anything you need,  _ Luci?” _ Decker was surprised as Espinoza’s voice chimed in, his jab at the captain rolling off his tongue like poison.

Captain Morningstar’s playful expression disappeared, a darker glint appearing in his already impossibly-dark eyes. “I am still your captain, and I expect to be respected as such,  _ Sergeant.” _ His tone was now snappish, simmering with hellfire.

Decker shot a wide-eyed stare at Espinoza, willing him silently to shut up and stand down. The man continued to add fuel to the flame, however. “Are you really now? Could’ve fooled me. You act more like an over-privileged frat boy on a summer vacation!” Espinoza was practically yelling now, attracting the attention of the rest of the crew. His finger jabbed at the captain’s chest to accentuate his words.

Morningstar’s face was half twisted in a snarl, and Decker could’ve sworn his eyes glowed red in the light. Before Espinoza could react, his hand was held tightly in the captain’s grip, his fingers slowly being crushed together. Soft sounds of pain and protest began to escape him, and he tried to pull away from the taller man. Captain Morningstar didn’t let go, however; instead, he pulled Espinoza closer, teeth bared in his face. “Speak to me like that again, and I’ll be sure to  _ forget  _ you when we get off this godforsaken planet… are we clear?”

Espinoza’s words came in pants, his expression contorted in pain, “yeah… yes- yes, sir, Captain...”

Morningstar snorted through his nose and released the man’s hand. Espinoza dropped his rifle and cradled his injured hand to his chest, hateful and fearful glances flicked at the captain.

Captain Morningstar’s appearance melded back into a more peaceful one, although something still burned fiercely beneath the surface; he straightened his sleeves and called to Dr. Martin, “you might want to check his hand; I fear I might have accidentally broken something.”

Decker padded over to where the captain had walked, somewhat trepid in her approach. This wasn’t the first time an incident had happened between Espinoza and him, but she’d never seen Captain Morningstar take it as far as to hurt one of his crewmembers. She wasn’t too keen of him, but she knew him well enough to know that something wasn’t sitting right with him.

“You alright?” She asked when she was a few steps away - just out of arm's length, should she startle him in his heated state.

“Hm?” His reply was nothing more than a distracted hum and a half peek over his shoulder, “oh, yes, I’m fine, Lieutenant.”

“Hah,” Decker gave a disbelieving laugh as he used her proper title for once, “yeah, you have me really convinced with that one.”

Captain Morningstar didn’t say anything in return, merely turning his eyes skyward slightly. His gaze slowly drifted back downwards, tracing something in the far distance. Finally, there was a mild  _ thoom!  _ followed by a burst of burning smoke and a faint tremor running through the ground. “I do believe our dear  _ Renegade  _ has finally returned to us, though not in one piece.”

Decker followed his gaze, watching as a plume of smoke billowed skyward. A faint glow reflected against the darkening horizon, suggesting that the  _ Renegade  _ was nothing more than a giant bonfire now. She sighed through her nose. “Well, that’s just fantastic…”

Morningstar arched an eyebrow at her, his expression mildly bemused. “Careful, Lieutenant. You might cut yourself on that sarcasm.”

He used her proper title again. Something must really be off. She fixed her full attention on the captain once more. “Seriously, what’s up with you? And don’t try and bullshit me.”

He shifted, his inspection of the flaming wreckage turning to the ground at his feet, though it never landed on her. “Really, it’s nothing you should concern yourself with,” - she glared sternly at him so hard he must have felt it - “... something with this  _ place  _ has me ill at ease.” Finally, he looked up at her and met her eyes. “I do promise,  _ Chloe _ , that if something serious were amiss, I would share it with it. I do trust you, even if sometimes it may not seem like it.”

Decker did nothing but stare at him. She wasn’t expecting that; she hadn’t been expecting anything more than another deflection, to be quite honest. She must have been staring at him long enough for things to get awkward because Morningstar cleared his throat and waved at the rest of the  _ Renegade _ ’s crew. “Shall we return to them now, or are you going to pester me with more pointless questions?”

“Yeah...” she snapped her gaze away, “we probably should. Looks like night is falling fast.” Not waiting for him, she walked back over to where Lopez and Espinoza were stood. Espinoza’s hand, she noted, was bound in a makeshift splint - the handiwork of Dr. Martin. He was nodding absently as Lopez rambled on about the makeup of the topsoil and other sciencey things.

“Hey,” she made herself known once she was within earshot. The duo’s heads popped up, Espinoza looking slightly relieved at being rescued from the flood of information. “Anything important we should know about?” She directed the question at Lopez. “Toxic water; flesh-eating plants?” The queries sounded a little silly, but she had seen enough shit to be expectant of anything.

“Surprisingly, nope. Everything came up green. There’s a large amount of copper in the soil, and the air’s a little nitrogen heavy, but nothing life-threatening.” Lopez tapped at a glowing tablet as she rapidly spoke. “No signs of sentient life, either. Unless they’re all in there,” she indicated the dark forest on the horizon - a landmark that was becoming harder to see by the minute as the sky darkened with nightfall.

Espinoza surveyed the shadowy landscape with a frown. “If there is something out there…” He didn’t finish the thought. “I’d rather not sit around with our asses hanging out.”

Decker nodded. “The  _ Renegade _ ’s a wreck now, but if we can make our way over to the crash site, we may be able to salvage something from it. And it’s a big enough fire to hopefully ward off anything that is out there.” She cast a look in the direction of the downed ship. “I’ll go speak with the captain.”

She turned to leave, but Espinoza grabbed her arm. “Lieutenant... be careful around that guy.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he plowed on. “And I’m not telling you just because he’s a dick. Something-” Espinoza’s eyes flicked to where Morningstar was talking avidly with the doctor. “Something doesn’t seem right about him. Just promise me you’ll be wary, please.”

“Your personal beef with Captain Morningstar isn’t anything that should affect me. I can make my own decisions” Espinoza continued to stare at her pleadingly until she sighed. “Fine, I’ll keep my guard up,” she acquiesced. Espinoza seemed to find that answer acceptable because he released her arm with a wordless nod.

Decker made her way back over to the captain’s side. She stayed silent as Morningstar and Dr. Martin’s conversation stretched on.

“-must be something, Doctor. I-” Captain Morningstar cut his words off as he noted Decker beside him.

“Oh! Hello, Lieutenant.” Dr. Martin greeted her, her eyes flicking to the captain.

“Hi, Doctor,” Decker returned the greeting, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No, no, no… the good doctor and I were just discussing… Douche’s hand.” Morningstar gripped her by the shoulder and steered her away from the doctor. His statement wasn’t the whole truth, but she decided not to press the matter. “Did you want something?”

Decker extracted herself from his grasp. “We should head towards the crash site. There might be something to salvage in the wreckage.”

“Excellent thinking, Chloe.” Morningstar flashed her a grin and beckoned for the doctor and her to join the rest of the crew. Upon reaching Lopez and Espinoza, he looked around with a slight look of confusion. “Where’s Maze?”

His question made Decker look around. The eccentric hired gun had disappeared. She had made it off the  _ Renegade _ , Decker was sure of that; she had seen the woman slinking among the rocks.

“Maze!-” Morningstar turned in a small circle, the vestiges of worry crossing his face.

“I’m right here, you idiot.” The woman in question appeared from behind a rock, gun and something else in hand. “I decided to actually do something useful like find food instead of waiting around and watching the grass grow.” She held up her catch, something reminiscent of a bird-like lizard. “I saw some dog-things devour an entire flock of them, so it must be edible, right?”

Decker didn’t know what astounded her the most: the fact that the captain didn’t react to being called an idiot; Maze’s odd catch; or the fact that there was a pack of carnivorous creatures roaming around not too far away.  _ “Shit…” _ was all she muttered under her breath.


	2. spero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ragtag crew are off to the Renegade!

The trek to the _Renegade_ ’s wreckage was daunting, to say the least. While not too bad in the light, the planet’s terrain was treacherous in the dark. Rock outcroppings sprang up from nowhere, and the tufts of grass were serious tripping hazards. The only source of light the ragtag crew had was Lopez’s tablet and the small flashlights Maze and Espinoza had on the top of their guns.

Glassy eyes seemed to dart around the exterior of the group, and Decker swore she heard faint animalistic chattering coming from the darkness beyond the meager circle of light.

Finally, the glow that had remained but a smudge on the horizon came into view; the _Renegade_ , while quite small for a starship with her crew of five plus one, created an enormous bonfire amidst the turmoil of overturned soil and boulders.

Beside her, Lopez picked up a jagged piece of scrap metal sporting the **_R_ ** of the _Renegade_. “Whelp, there goes any chance of repairing her.” The petite scientist tossed the metal aside and looked up at the roaring fire with her hands on her hips.

A few beads of sweat trickled down Decker’s face, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the long journey to the crash site or from the heat of the fire. She brushed it away and began to scrounge around the cool pieces of metal for any salvage.

The sharp crack of a firing gun made her straighten, and only years of training kept her from jumping out of her boots. “Get away from me, you mangy mutts!” From the other side of the crash site, she heard Espinoza’s yelling. A few more shots followed his exclamation.

Her heartbeat quickening, Decker ran to where the security officer was. His back was to the fire, and in front of him were three canine-esque beasts, each about as tall as a six-year-old human child. They were coated in thick, dark, bristling fur, and saliva dripped from their bared fangs. They were wary of Espinoza’s gun due to the fact that two of their own laid dead at their paws.

Captain Morningstar had also been drawn over by the clamor, and he came rushing from the side of the burning _Renegade_ , though he slowed once he saw the situation. The man’s expression hardened, and he cobbled together a makeshift torch with efficiency that amazed Decker. The torch - crafted from a metal pipe and the only cloth readily available - the shirt off his back - was doused in a puddle of fiery oil and set ablaze.

“Alright, off with you lot!” Morningstar approached the beasts, waving the torch in front of him like a pike. The creatures growled and snarled and gnashed their jaws, but they balked at the brightness and heat of the flame nonetheless. His eyes still locked on the brutes, the captain waved to Espinoza and Decker with his free hand. “Come on, we’d best get back to the others. Safety in numbers and all that.”

Decker gave a curt nod, and even Espinoza seemed eager to follow the captain’s orders. Together, the trio edged their way back around the wreckage, the creatures shadowing their every step. Only Morningstar’s torch and Espinoza’s gun seemed to keep them at bay. An overzealous one seemed to have spotted a weakness in the shield; it leapt forward and latched onto the captain’s torch-bearing arm.

A sound escaped Morningstar, a deepthroated guttural growl that chilled Decker to the bone. His face twisted into something between pain and fury, though it was half hidden in the low light. A low whine filled the air, and it took Decker a moment to realize it was coming from the beast biting his arm; it was terrified. The torch dropped and forgotten on the ground, Morningstar threw the brute off with a sweep of his arm; it fell into the others, whimpering and whining.

Whatever adrenaline-spurred madness had filled the captain had left him, and he stumbled a bit before shoving Decker and Espinoza towards the others. Espinoza fired a few more shots into the pack, but they seemed to have given up on hunting the _Renegade_ ’s crew. The remaining beasts slunk away into the night.

Breathing hard, Decker turned away from their retreating forms and scanned the faces of her crewmates. Lopez was looking surprised, her mouth slightly agape. Espinoza was muttering under his breath and running a hand through his sweat-streaked hair. Maze was as stoic as ever, though a faint gleam was lit in her eyes. Dr. Martin was wearing an intense expression of concentration as she searched among the salvaged goods. Morningstar’s face was surprisingly calm for a man who had just been attacked, though he was a little tight-lipped and gray-faced.

Decker approached the captain, her gaze flicking to the deep, bleeding gashes in his upper arm. She also noticed for the first time that he was without a shirt, his toned form slightly coated in ash and slicked with sweat. She silently chastised herself as her heartbeat quickened at the sight and tore her eyes away.

Morningstar must have caught her gawking because a smirk was plastered on his face despite his obvious pain. “Like what you see?” His words were strained and raspy.

Decker swallowed thickly, choosing not to answer. Instead, she returned her attention to his wound. “How bad is it?”

Morningstar shrugged with his good shoulder. “More pain than I’ve felt in… a long while. But not the worse I’ve endured.”

Before she could say anything else, Dr. Martin came over, ladened with bandages and a few miscellaneous bottles. As Decker moved away from the two, she heard the doctor muttering about how she _could_ be living a plush lifestyle in an Andromeda colony as a therapist for rich people.

Decker shot a last glance at the captain’s bare back, and her breath caught in her throat. Illuminated by the flickering fire of the _Renegade_ , two large crescent-shaped scars disfigured Morningstar’s back; the mottled webbing of tortured flesh rippled as his shoulderblades moved, enrapturing her attention. He had talked about immeasurable pain; now she could see why. What she wanted to know was _how._

Sucking in a fresh breath of air, Decker averted her gaze before he noticed and joined Espinoza and Maze beside a smaller fire. The smell of roasting food wafted through the air, and she realized just how hungry she was. Being chased by alien dogs would do that to a person.

She sat down on a storage crate beside Espinoza, eyeing the cooking avian creature.

“How is he?” The quiet question came from the man beside her, and she spied Espinoza looking in the captain's direction. Grudging respect glinted in his eyes; after all, the captain had just saved his life.

“The wounds look deep, but he should be fine,” she reported. For a moment, the image of the grievous scars on his back stuck in her mind, but she shook the thought away. They weren’t any business of hers.

“He’d better be…” Maze muttered, and Decker barely caught her words over the fire between them. “If he dies, I don’t get payed.”

Decker wasn’t sure what to make of Maze. The woman had showed up before they had started their current mission, claiming to have been hired to protect the captain. Morningstar had looked divided on the matter; he was happy to have another woman around him, but he didn’t appear thrilled to have a bodyguard tailing him everywhere. Before they had left the Andromeda station, he had muttered something about a brother under his breath.

After Maze’s muttering, the trio fell into a silence, all watching the creature roast on the crackling fire. Another ten minutes passed before Maze declared the food done. She carved one of the creature’s legs off and took it for herself before handing the rest to Decker and Espinoza to split among the crew. Espinoza cut away portions for the rest of them and turned the remainder into strips to dry over the fire.

Decker wasn’t usually one to drool over her food, but she hadn’t eaten in hours and so much had happened that she couldn’t help but drool a little as she ate her dinner. The taste wasn’t anything spectacular; the meat wasn’t seasoned at all, and it was a little chewy. To her, however, it tasted heavenly. Her meal finished, she settled down to sleep, however restless it might be.

* * *

The next morning, Decker awoke to the blinding sun beaming in her eyes. Groggily, she rose from her makeshift bed and wiped the sleep from her face. Her uniform sleeve came away dirty with ash and sweat, and she felt gritty all over. What she would give for a nice hot shower…

A quick glance around told her that she was the first one up save for Maze who seemed to be keeping watch. The woman gave her a curt nod of acknowledgement before returning to her patrolling.

Espinoza was perched up against a slab of metal, his rifle resting in his lap and his head lolling against his chest. Lopez was asleep not too far away, curled up beneath a dirt-stained piece of cloth; the scientist was sporting several black smudges of soot on her face. Dr. Martin and Morningstar were sharing a bright orange emergency blanket; the doctor was was on her back with her hands gripping the hem of the blanket, and the captain was lying on his stomach with his arms pillowed beneath his head. Someone had found him a new shirt, and the white edges of his bandages peeked from the short sleeves.

Decker went to relieve herself; when she returned, she found that Espinoza had awoken as well and was checking the strips of meat he had left to smoke overnight. She greeted him with a soft “hey” as she strode over.

“Good morning…” he replied, giving her a small glance. He offered her a strip of smoked meat which she readily took.

She wandered over to their small heap of salvage while chewing on her breakfast, and with one hand, she sifted through the pile. Most of it looked to be medical supplies and ammo boxes. There were a few miscellaneous articles of clothing and half-broken pieces of tech as well. Only a few water containers had survived, and most of them looked near empty; hopefully, the water on the planet wouldn’t kill them. The only food that had survived the  _ Renegade _ ’s crash was the stuff that had been in a strongbox - a handful of chocolate bars and packages of dried fruits. A little metal flask was also inside the strongbox, and a quick whiff of it revealed it to be some kind of alcohol. No doubt it was Morningstar’s special stash.

Her inspection of the supplies complete, she stood back up and looked around again. Morningstar was gone; the place he had occupied under the orange blanket was empty, and Dr. Martin had pulled most of it over to cover her better.

Curious and just a little bit worried, Decker crept out of the  _ Renegade _ ’s wreckage and scanned the landscape beyond for the captain. She spied his form disappearing behind a large rock outcropping.

She trailed him and found him crouched beside a small stream of clear water. He was splashing the water on his face and attempting to flatten his mussed hair that stuck up in all directions. The sight of him, half asleep, messy-haired, and wearing nothing more than his uniform pants and an old Andromeda academy t-shirt made Decker want to laugh aloud. She managed to smother the noise to a snort.

Evidently she was within earshot because his head whipped around. His gaze landed on her, and he wore an expression of playful confusion. “Are you following me, Lieutenant?”

“Just making sure you’re not off dying in the wilderness.” Decker crossed her arms, unable to keep a soft grin off her face.

Captain Morningstar seemed to realize the source of her amusement and glanced down at himself. He ran a hand through his hair which still stuck up in unruly tufts. He also spared a look at his bandaged arm. “Ah… I didn’t know you cared.”

“You’re still the captain, even if the ship is kind of a wreck.” Decker shifted. “Besides, I never got to thank you for saving me and Espinoza last night.”

Morningstar suddenly looked uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t used to being thanked. He dropped his gaze. “Yes, well, don’t make a habit of it. I suppose we’re even now, hm?”

Decker arched a brow in confusion before Morningstar continued. “You saved my life back on Nero from those thugs, and now I’ve saved yours. Tit for tat.”

“Most people don’t risk their lives to repay a debt.”

“Well, I’m not most people, now am I?” Morningstar gave her a winning grin, though it faded away after a few moments. The air between them became awkward as the conversation fell flat. A few more seconds passed before the captain cleared his throat loudly. “Right, well, lovely chat. Everyone’s probably awake now and we should be returning.”

Decker gave a nod, her hands dropping to her sides. “Right,” she parroted, turning away from the captain.

As she plodded back towards the wreckage, she heard a sharp intake of breath and something heavy thudding against the ground. Her skin prickling with nervous energy, she turned back around. The captain had collapsed to the ground, his fingers grasping at a little tufted object stuck into his arm.

“Captain?” Decker carefully stepped closer. Alarm coursed through her when three cloaked figures swarmed around the captain’s form and began to drag him away. “Morningstar!” She surged forward to stop the figures, but before she could do anything, a stabbing pain filled her neck and blackness claimed her vision.


	3. metus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some torture-y bits in this chapter. Dehydration, starvation, sensory deprivation and overload. Nothing major major though. Lots of blood and emotional shit.
> 
> Hope you guys like cliffhangers.

The low humming of lights dragged Decker from her drug-induced unconsciousness. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. She tried to pry her gritty eyes open, but the light stabbed at her eyeballs with the fury of a thousand needles.

Pressing her eyes back together, she waited for the pain to fade before trying again. The second time, it went a little smoother. The light still made her head throb, but at least the stabbing sensation had abated.

With a few of her senses finally intact, she took stock of the situation. She was unbound, at least. That as a plus… that was the only plus. She was in a sterile white room, one so clinical and stale it made her skin crawl. It was reminiscent of a prison or quarantine cell, not something that should be found on a wild, uncharted planet.

Which begged the question, was she even still on the planet?

She. Not they. Decker snapped to attention as she realized she was completely alone; Captain Morningstar was nowhere to be seen.

She slowly clambered from where she was unceremoniously sprawled on the ground and tread with heavy feet to what looked to be the door. There was no knob of any sort on the inside nor any type of handhold. So she opted to bang on the door and shout until she got someone's attention. Someone had to be out there, right?

A few minutes - it felt like hours - later, no one had appeared, and she had shouted herself hoarse. With a sigh of defeat, Decker slumped down with her back to the door. She set her head in her hands and rubbed her fingers through her tangled hair. How had she gotten in this mess?

The silence in the stark white room was deafening, and her thoughts had nothing else to do but wander. Eventually, they strayed to Trixie. Her little girl… Decker wondered how she was doing under the care of her mother. She had been loathe to leave her little monkey in her mother’s care, but it wasn't like she really had a choice; she didn't have much family left in the universe.

The thoughts of her daughter's face pinched with worry for her filled her with renewed vigor. She resumed her banging and shouting, not caring when her voice left her completely and her sore fist began to leave little red streaks on the otherwise white door.

Still no one came. No one came for hours. The only evidence she had that someone else was actually out there was when a little hatch appeared and a glass of water was pushed in by a pale-skinned hand.

Decker made a lunge for the hand, seeking to grab it; to demand answers. Before she could, the hand whisked away with only her nails grazing it. The only satisfaction she got was leaving her own blood in streaks across the clean skin.

In her mad dash for the hand, she had tipped the glass over, sending water flowing across the seamless floor. The sight of it glittering under the harsh lights brought her raging thirst into focus. Maybe grabbing for the hand hadn't been her smartest move...

Decker drew her parched tongue across her dry lips and eyed the water with desire. Her gaze flicked to the corners and walls of the room; they were watching her somehow, being entertained by her misfortunes. She sat down on a dry part of the floor and stared dejectedly at the water.

Another hour and a half passed before she succumbed to her thirst and put aside her pride. She lowered herself to the floor and lapped at the spilled water like a dog. Her cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment despite being alone in the room. They were watching; she knew it.

* * *

 

A day must have passed. Night would have set upon the planet... assuming she was still on the planet. Yet nothing changed in her little white room. She was given no food and no more water; the water on the floor had long since dried up. With no toilet of any kind present in her prison, she was forced to go in the far corner. The room stank of urine and blood. Ammonia and copper. The smell almost made her want to vomit, but Decker forced herself to swallow the bile. Throwing up would mean ridding her body of the little food and water she had left.

Another day came and went with no change. Again, she was given exactly one glass of water. She noticed that the other glass had disappeared, likely removed during one of her fitful bouts of sleep.

Decker was careful to conserve her new glass of water; she only took a few sips every so often. Still, it did little to offset the thirst that clawed at her drying throat and churned a headache deep in her head.

She decided to relieve herself in the corner again in lieu of wetting herself and soiling her only clothes; she wasn't giving them that much satisfaction. The smell of cold urine was suffocating, and even though her bleeding fists had scabbed over, the air still tasted of copper amidst the ammonia.

Wandering back over to her spot on the floor, she studied her hands. They shook slightly, and dried and flaking blood crusted her knuckles. She drew her knees up her chest and hugged them; she pressed her eyelids down, willing for all of this to be some kind of horrible dream. She’d wake up at the wreck of the  _ Renegade,  _ or even in her own bed at the Andromeda colony with Trixie tugging at the covers.

A faint sound rumbled in her ears, and her eyes shot open with hope; however, the blindingly white walls of her prison still shone back mockingly, and the air still reeked of urine and blood. Her eyes darted to the door; it had opened, and a woman stood staring at her with a stoic face. She was tall, taller than Decker, and her white hair was done up in a fancy bun. Despite her pale hair, her face looked relatively young - ageless, even. She was dressed in black robes, a sharp contrast to everything else.

“Come,” she commanded with a wave of her hand. Her voice was harsh and brooked no arguments. She was one of them, one of them who had put Decker in her prison and watched her. She had to be.

Spite coursed through her veins; Decker didn’t move a muscle. Her obstinence seemed to bother the woman, and a brief expression of irritation crossed her face. “Come,” she repeated, her voice a bit more grinding. When Decker still didn’t rise, the woman approached her and yanked her from the ground.

Decker began to struggle, but the woman’s strength far outweighed her own. Her struggling earned her a slap across the face so hard she felt her lip split. The woman’s nails bit into her arm as she dragged Decker from the room. Decker tried to cry out, to protest, but her voice failed her, and all she could manage was a raspy sob. Stumbling, she managed to hoist herself to her feet as the woman pulled her through a maze of white halls. She tried to keep track of where they were going, but everything looked monotonous and stale.

Finally, they stopped moving. The woman pulled Decker in front of her and marched her into a room with gray walls, gray floor, gray everything. The only other colors were the white light that illuminated everything and the dark red blood that spattered the ground in tiny puddles. Her eyes traced the puddles up to a person - Captain Morningstar.

He was slumped forward, trussed up with his arms apart in some kind of crucifixion. His dark hair was matted with blood, and his bare-chested form was streaked and scarred with jagged, leaking lines. He looked to be unconscious, his weight straining against his bonds as he slouched downwards.

Decker called out to him. Or at least, she tried to. It came out more of a garbled,  _ “Mo’n’st’r!” _

The captain seemed roused by her voice, his head rising slowly. His eyes seemed clouded and confused before they found her. A tired but somehow cheeky grin was plastered on his face. “Chloe...” His voice was choked and pained. “I’d... imagined they’d killed you already... not like them to keep a human around.”

Decker frowned at his words, but before she could make much of them, another door opened on the far side of the room. A man, garbed in a robe not unlike the woman’s, strode in, smiling as he spotted Decker.

Decker did a double take. The man sported long, dark curls that were pulled back in a small ponytail; he exuded pride and power, his posture giving him a godlike aura. Change a few things, and he could have been a mirror of Morningstar… almost. His eyes were a pale blue so piercing, Decker felt as if they stared at her soul.

The man swept past the captain, and Decker was so caught up in staring at him that she nearly missed Morningstar’s glare of hatred and disgust. She did, however, watch as Morningstar spat bloody saliva after the man. The man froze and turned; contempt glimmered in his pale eyes as he gave the captain a resounding kick in the face.

Decker tried to see Morningstar, but the man intercepted her vision. He traced a finger along her jaw, and Decker didn’t punch him only because the woman restricted her other arm. She hissed at him, well aware that blood from her split lip was dribbling down her face.

“Lieutenant Decker, is it?” Haughty, rich, and accented, just like Morningstar’s voice, except the man’s held a colder tone. The man’s vision flicked to Morningstar as he continued on, “I fail to see what makes her so special.” The words were directed at the captain.

“Don’t you touch her…” Morningstar has risen as best he can, and his voice is filled with a deepthroated growl that is almost animalistic.

The man gave a chuckle, taking Decker away from the woman and pushing her closer to Morningstar. He grappled both arms behind her back and grabbed her face with his free hand. “And what are you going to do about it, brother? Spit at me?”

Brother?  _ Brother?  _ Decker’s mind was racing. Over her pounding heart, she tried to make sense of what was going on. The man was Morningstar’s  _ brother? _

As Decker was trying to think, the man had procured a knife from somewhere. He pressed it to her face, his gaze fixated on the captain.

“So, what do you say, brother? Finally ready to have a little chat?” He slashed down with the knife. Hard. A line split open down Decker’s cheek, and from it burst a burning hot pain. Try as she might, she couldn’t contain the scream that tore at her dry throat.

**_“Michael!”_ ** A roar boomed through the room, drowning out Decker’s cry. Morningstar was pulling at his bonds, a look of wild fury painted on his face. What remained of Decker’s scream died in her abused throat. She stood frozen, eyes locked onto the captain’s face. His eyes were a vibrant, fiery red that glowed with hellfire.

Michael, however, seemed unfazed by Morningstar’s vicious display. He wore a smirk as he brought the knife once more the Decker’s face. “Ah, so she does mean something.” Michael turned his attention to Decker, considering her. “Hm… you have such pretty eyes… I bet my brother thinks the same…”

Fear flooded Decker’s veins as the knife was raised to her right eye, poised just above her eyelid. She choked out a shaky, “no…”

_ “Michael!”  _ Morningstar’s roar had dimmed, and his eyes were back to being a dark brown. He heaved a breath. “Fine,” his tone snapped at the air like a whip, “ask me what you want; I’ll answer you. Just…” His dark eyes found Decker’s, though she found it hard to meet his gaze. “... just leave her out of our little quarrel.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, bother. I know you too well. Besides, I’m not interested in interrogating you.” The knife never wavered from its position. “Did you really think you could just  _ run away  _ without consequences? Without punishment? I’ve hunted you for a millenia. Now, I’m going to make sure you’re properly punished for abandoning your family. For  _ betraying  _ me.”

Decker’s thoughts were in a whirlwind, and she felt close to passing out. It was hard to miss the looks of fury and anguish that were battling it out on Morningstar’s face.

The next time the captain spoke, his voice wasn’t a roar; it was barely passed a whisper. Instead, it rocked through his body like a sob of anger.  _ “Ran away?  _ Betrayed  _ you?” _ He barked out a wet, humorless laugh, doubling over slightly. “Brother…  _ you and our brothers and sisters  _ **_kicked me out_ ** _. On Dad’s command.”  _ Morningstar wheezed slightly, unable to stop a tear that escaped his eye. “I thought you of all people would remember that. Or has your brain rotted away with old age,  _ like your heart did?” _

Despite the low volume of his words, each one struck Decker with the force of a punch. She felt like passing out, or throwing up. Or both. She wanted to slump, to just let the darkness take her and wash away all that was happening around her. But that would mean getting a knife through the eye, and she wasn’t so keen on trying that look.

She reeled her wayward thoughts back in, doing her best to collect them and formulate some plan of escape. Because she’d be damned if she died in this boring, gray room stained with blood at the hand of some psycho.

Then there was a glint of metal flashing in the too-bright lights. It came from behind the captain’s little crucifix. Time went slow, or at least it seemed to as the tip of a glistening blade sprouted from Morningstar’s stomach. Rivulets of blood leaked around the sword tip, dripping off the point. The only sound that escaped Morningstar was a soft gasp.

The sword slipped back through the wound it had created, and the blood turned into a waterfall. Morningstar slumped forward, his eyes fluttering closed. Decker sucked in a breath, and it took her a few seconds to register that she was no longer being held. Instead, Michael was screaming at the woman. The woman was wielding the sword.

“Azrael, what are you  _ doing?” _

Azrael met Michael’s furious look, her expression never wavering past stoic. “You were toying with him, Michael, torturing him. Father wanted us to bring him back or kill him. It was obvious he wouldn’t be coming, so I chose the latter.”

Michael was busy gaping and gawking at Azrael, so Decker darted towards the fallen captain. “No, no,  _ nonono _ …” she found herself muttering under her choking breath. She shakily felt for a pulse, her heart stuttering as she felt a faint one. There was still hope… all they needed was a miracle. She turned her attention to the chains that bound him. They were unlike anything she had seen before, but when she reached out to touch them, they fell away. Morningstar, free, slumped down on Decker; she grunted under his greater weight and struggled to hold him up.

A miracle… that was all they needed. Just a fucking miracle…

Decker’s miracle came in the form of Maze. The woman burst through the door Michael had entered through, her rifle in hand. Silently, she took in the situation, her expression hardening with each detail.

Suddenly, she was by her side, and some of Morningstar’s dead weight was lifted from her shoulders. “C’mon, Decker. Get your ass moving…” Maze growled at her.

Decker was in a daze. More people were streaming in, people she’d never seen before. Michael and Azrael were… gone… There were no gunshots or sounds of fighting. Then she was outside  _ \- fresh air! -  _ and being led to a sleek white landing ship parked on the blue grassy plains of the planet.

Morningstar’s weight was gone completely, and Lopez and Dr. Martin were all she could see. They were asking her questions, but they whispered past her ears like the wind. Dr. Martin was telling her everything was okay, and they would get her fixed up.

Everything was getting dark, and Decker was tired. She was so,  _ so _ damn tired. Everything was alright; the doctor had said so. Maybe she could sleep...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me.


End file.
